


pass go, collect two hundred dollars

by pbandwhey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Sharing Clothes, shirsey kink (jk not really)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:12:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbandwhey/pseuds/pbandwhey
Summary: Maybe Justin’s reading things wrong, seeing what he wants to see, but he’s pretty sure that not only has Olli noticed Justin’s reaction to him wearing his shirts, but that he’s intentionally being a massive fucking tease about it.





	pass go, collect two hundred dollars

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt about wearing someone else's shirts.

Olli’s been driving Justin _crazy._

A few weeks back, Olli had been at Justin’s house, just hanging out and watching some HGTV show—House Hunters or Property Brothers or something, he can’t really remember—and Olli somehow managed to spill half a bottle of beer down the front of his shirt. Once Justin was done laughing and Olli was done cursing, he got up to get Olli a t-shirt from his closet. He was about to grab a plain gray v-neck, but he noticed one of the multiple shirseys he had for team events in the back of his closet, and he couldn’t resist.

Olli rolled his eyes once he saw the big yellow four on the back, accompanied by the nameplate reading “SCHULTZ” above it, but he still pulled it on. Justin had intended to tease Olli while he was wearing it, but as soon as he saw Olli turn around and walk away with his name and number on the back, Justin realized that the joke may have been on him. Because while Olli had seemed nonchalant about wearing Justin’s shirsey, Justin was anything but.

Maybe Justin’s reading things wrong, seeing what he wants to see, but he’s pretty sure that not only has Olli noticed Justin’s reaction to him wearing his shirts, but that he’s intentionally being a massive fucking tease about it.

Almost every time Justin comes over, Olli’s wearing the goddamn shirt. Hell, Justin’s certain that Olli has more than one, now; when Justin comes over to hang out in the evening, the shirsey Olli’s wearing will be tight enough that it’s stretched over his shoulders, sleeves conforming to the swell of his biceps. In the rarer instances where Justin comes by in the morning, he usually catches Olli in his pajamas, which apparently now include a larger version of the shirt, draping further past his hips and making him look all loose and comfortable. Justin thinks that if he were more bold, he’d grab Olli by the hips and take him right back to bed and find out just how loose Olli could be.

Justin isn’t that bold, but he’s starting to think that Olli might be. Because while Olli may be straight-faced and dry when they joke around, he’s become easier and easier for Justin to read as time goes on. He can pick up things like the way that one corner of Olli’s mouth will creep upwards whenever he catches Justin looking.

It isn’t even about the shirts anymore. If Justin’s being totally honest with himself, it wasn’t even about the shirts in the first place. But the shirts sparked it, and now Justin feels like they’re creeping closer and closer towards—something.

Everything’s normal in the locker room, of course, because Justin’s a professional, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t started looking Olli’s way more than usual now that it seemed like he had permission to. A few people definitely noticed; Tanger always rolls his eyes at Justin whenever he catches him staring, and Dumo likes to waggle his eyebrows, but Justin can usually just duck his head and ignore them. No one’s malicious about it; after all, it isn’t uncommon for teammates to hook up, and actual relationships, while less common, aren’t too frowned upon either, provided they’re pretty under-the-radar. There are at least two people on the Penguins roster hooking up with each other—well, Justin’s pretty sure, at least, since he can’t think of any other explanation for the time he’d wandered a little too far past the locker room after practice and heard what was almost certainly Russian dirty talk emanating from a janitorial closet.

But even with all of the positive signs, the green lights, the “pass go, collect two hundred dollars”, Justin still isn’t sure about making a definitive move. The way he sees it, he already did: he gave Olli the shirt in the first place, which now feels like both the best and the worst idea he’s ever had.

He didn’t expect Olli to turn the tables on him.

Justin’s bringing home a bag of takeout when he notices an unmarked package lying in front of his door. He should be suspicious about it, but his curiosity overtakes his caution and he brings the package inside. He toes off his shoes before setting the takeout on his kitchen counter.

He rips into the box. There’s a folded bundle of black fabric inside, and Justin’s breath catches in his throat before pulling the shirt out, unfolding it and turning it around to reveal—sure enough—a large number three, with “MAATTA” printed above it.

Justin hasn’t changed his shirt this fast in his entire life.

He only just remembers to check his pants pockets for his keys and phone before rushing back out of the door. He doesn’t remember his shoes, but they’re both inside the same complex, and he doesn’t have the patience to put them back on. It takes no time at all to get to Olli’s apartment, and he knocks insistently on the door. Justin only has to wait a few seconds before the door swings open, and then Olli’s standing there, face flushed and pupils blown.

Justin lets himself in, slamming the door shut behind him, keeping eye contact with Olli the whole time.

Olli visibly swallows before speaking. “You got my package.” Justin resists the urge to snort at the double entendre.

“I did.” Justin takes a step closer. Olli doesn’t move away. “I think it looks pretty good on me.” Justin lifts his hand to trace a fingertip along the skin just above Olli’s shirt collar, and Olli sucks in a breath before responding.

“I think I look better.”

Justin sighs. “Even now, you’re competitive.” He moves his hand even higher to cup the side of Olli’s neck and stroke a thumb along his jaw. Olli shivers, and Justin grins. “What, you’re not in the mood to tease me anymore?”

Olli’s eyes narrow. He grabs Justin by the hips and takes advantage of Justin’s brief moment of surprise, turning him around and pinning him to the wall. “I’ll show you teasing.”

He leans in further, and Justin thinks he’s finally going to kiss him, but Olli turns his head and tucks his face into Justin’s neck instead, nipping at the skin about an inch below his jaw. Justin’s a little embarrassed by the squeak he lets out, but makes up for it by burying one hand in Olli’s hair and bringing the other one around to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. Olli hums in what Justin assumes is approval, and bites the skin under Justin’s earlobe. It’s a pleasant sting, and Justin slumps back into the wall, content to sit back and let Olli mark up his neck.

Olli stops after he’s moved over to work on the other side of Justin’s neck. He raises his head and scowls. “Are you really just going to stand there?”

Justin responds by using the hand he has placed at the back of Olli’s neck to pull him in and nip at Olli’s lower lip. It transitions into actual kissing, but Justin briefly wonders if he should be worried that they started off this whole process by biting each other. But then Olli tilts his head just so, and Justin really, truly, does not care.

Neither of them try to push in too deep. It’s chaste, both of them only keeping their lips slightly parted, which really only serves to intensify things more. Olli’s pressed in even closer so they’re chest-to-chest, and Justin feels confident enough to move the hand he has buried in Olli’s hair to skim down his back, finally grabbing at his ass.

Justin hears Olli moan and feels momentarily smug about having the upper hand. That is, until Olli moves a hand from Justin’s hip to palm at his crotch.

Justin breaks away. “That really isn’t fair.”

Olli smirks before leaning in to bump their noses together. “If what you want is a level playing field, then we should probably move out of the hallway.”

“Alright.” Justin ducks in one more time to peck at Olli’s lips. “Lead the way.”

They manage to get to Olli’s bedroom with very little fondling, but as soon as they pass through the threshold Olli pushes Justin onto the bed. Justin scoots backwards until his head hits the pillows, and Olli crawls on top of him to straddle his hips. He grins down at him. “What do you want?”

Justin reaches out to tug at the hem of Olli’s—well, his, he guesses—shirt. “Take this off.”

“I thought I looked good in it,” Olli says, but peels his shirt off anyways. Justin takes a second to admire how the flush that’s spread down from Olli’s face to his neck contrasts with how pale the rest of his chest is. He doesn’t have a lot of time, though, since Olli’s already tugging at the front of Justin’s shirt. Justin can take a hint, and he sits up fully to drag it off, jostling Olli so that he loses his balance and almost falls sideways off his lap. Olli glares at him.

Justin laughs. “You’re the one who wanted my shirt off.”

Olli grabs Justin’s shoulders and pins him to the bed. “Shut up.” He leans over, bracing his forearms on either side of Justin’s head and kissing him before he can retort. Justin isn’t complaining, especially not when Olli grinds his hips down. Olli’s wearing sweatpants, and Justin’s pretty sure he’s gone commando. His suspicions are confirmed when he grabs Olli’s ass to goad him into a steady rhythm.

It isn’t long before they both get impatient. Olli pushes himself back so that he’s sitting over Justin’s thighs instead. He starts working on Justin’s belt buckle. “Why did you even wear this?”

“I mean, it’s not like I expected this to happen tonight.” Justin shrugs. “I saw the package, pulled the shirt out, threw it on and then came over here as soon as I could.” He chuckles a little. “I forgot to put my shoes on, if that helps.”

Olli ducks his head to fully apply himself to the task of getting Justin’s belt off, but Justin doesn’t miss the small pleased smile on his face. He reaches out to stroke Olli’s knee, and the smile on Olli’s face gets wider.

Olli gets the belt undone and pulled away. He tosses it to the side and starts working on the zipper, and Justin drops his head back against the pillow for a moment. Olli’s hand brushes against his erection as he pulls Justin’s zipper down. It’s barely anything, but it makes him twitch a little. Olli leans over until Justin can see his face. He’s smirking. “You okay there?”

“Yeah,” Justin says. “But I’d be better if you weren’t so slow.”

Olli yanks his jeans down in a split second and knee-walks backwards as he pulls them off of Justin’s legs. He hops off of the bed briefly to pull off his own sweatpants. Justin barely gets a glimpse at Olli’s cock before Olli pounces on him again. The only layer of clothing between them is Justin’s boxers, which isn’t much of a barrier at all.

Justin’s starting to feel bad about Olli doing all the work, and he uses his legs to flip them over so Justin’s on top. It’s Justin’s turn to take advantage of Olli’s surprise, and he grabs Olli’s wrists to pin them over his head.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Olli says on an exhale, eyes sliding closed with a content look on his face. Justin adjusts his hands so that he has both of Olli’s wrists held down with one hand, and he licks the palm of the other before reaching down to thumb over the head of Olli’s dick. Olli hums again, and Justin flicks his eyes upwards to check his face. Olli’s biting at his lower lip, smiling a little with his eyes closed and an attractive flush spread over his cheeks.

They stay like that, Justin slowly jacking Olli off while Olli lays back with his eyes closed. After about a minute, Olli starts squirming a little. He opens his eyes and places a hand on Justin’s arm. Justin stops, worried. “What?”

Olli looks up at him, eyes hooded. “Flip over and close your eyes.

Justin scrambles to comply, lying on his back next to Olli and keeping his eyes shut. He feels the bed dip a little as Olli climbs back on top of him. Olli kisses him briefly, and then he starts moving down, kissing Justin’s chin, then his neck, then his collarbone, then his sternum. He kisses over his pecs and Justin feels Olli drag his tongue over his nipple. He jerks a little, and Olli pauses for a second before doing it again. Then Olli nips at it.

“Ow,” Justin says, raising his head and opening his eyes to glare at Olli.

“Sorry,” Olli says, not sounding sorry at all. He licks over his nipple again, very lightly, and Justin lets his head fall back, shutting his eyes again.

Olli hums, sounding pleased, before he starts working his way down again. He kisses down Justin’s abdomen as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. He noses down the skin revealed inch by inch as he pulls the waistband down. Justin lifts his hips when Olli goes to drag his boxers down completely, and he feels the bed dip again as he shifts aside to pull the boxers down Justin’s legs.

He feels Olli brace a hand on one of his thighs, and a few seconds pass before anything else happens. Justin’s about to open his eyes when feels Olli lick up the base of his cock to the head. Then he _has_ to look, raising his head just in time to see Olli wrap his hand around the base and take the head of Justin’s dick into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Justin groans, “Fuck, Olli.”

Olli moves his mouth further down before bobbing back up and pulling off. He looks up through his eyelashes. “God, you’re easy, aren’t you?”

Justin frowns at him, but any complaints he might have had disappear when Olli licks the bead of precome forming at the head of his cock. Justin puts his hand on Olli’s head to tug at his hair, and he sees Olli’s eyes flutter shut before he takes Justin into his mouth again. He lets his head fall back, putting his other hand on Olli’s head along with the first.

They fall into an easy rhythm, Olli working his way down further each time. At one point, he chokes a little, and Justin drags Olli’s head back up, worried. “Don’t kill yourself on my dick. We get injured enough as is.”

Olli giggles a little, pressing his cheek against Justin’s thigh. “Would choking on dick be an upper body injury?”

Justin’s still laughing when Olli licks his balls. He accidentally kicks Olli in the side, and Olli pinches his thigh in retaliation. “Don’t give me a lower body injury, too.” But Olli goes back to sucking his dick, so Justin figures he can’t be too upset.

Olli jacks the hand at the base of his dick faster while he tongues at the foreskin under the exposed head. Justin starts breathing heavier, synched up with the sound of Olli breathing through his nose. He props himself up on his elbows so he can get a better look. Olli’s still flushed, and Justin can hear his occasional quiet moans from low in his throat over the wet sounds of Olli’s spit-slicked hand. His lips are redder than before, and Justin can’t help but move his weight to one elbow and reach down to thumb at Olli’s stretched mouth. Olli’s eyes snap open, and he looks back at Justin for a moment before his eyes slide shut and he bobs his head faster.

Justin groans. “Olli, fuck, I’m almost— _Olli_.” He pulls at Olli’s hair enough that Olli pulls off completely. “I’m close, really close, just, a little—“

Olli surges up to kiss him while he keeps jacking him off, and the taste of himself in Olli’s mouth is enough to push Justin over the edge. He moans, pulling back just slightly to pant against Olli’s mouth as he shudders through his orgasm, coming between their stomachs.

He opens his eyes in time to see Olli drag his index finger through the mess on Justin’s stomach. Olli brings the finger to his lips and starts to lick it clean. Justin takes a deep breath.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“You’re one to talk.” Olli grinds his hips against Justin’s thigh, which—right, Olli hasn’t gotten off yet.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave you hanging.” Justin reaches down, getting some of his own come on his palm before closing it around Olli’s dick. Olli inhales sharply, pushing his face into Justin’s neck and mouthing over some of the marks he left earlier. He rocks into Justin’s fist, and Justin reaches around to grab Olli’s ass and encourage the motion. Soon, Olli’s panting turns into a series of wordless noises, before he finally moans Justin’s name into his neck as he comes, adding to the mess on Justin’s stomach.

Olli slumps into him. They lay there for a bit, just breathing, before Olli sits up, grimacing at the dried come pulling at their skin. “Yeuch. I always forget about this part.”

Justin looks at him, incredulous. “You forgot how orgasms work?”

Olli hits him on the shoulder. “Fuck you, you know what I mean.” He clambers off of Justin and swings his feet over the side of the bed. “Hold on, lemme clean this off.” Justin hums back at him, closing his eyes and drifting a little before he feels something wiping off his stomach.

Justin opens his eyes to see—“Oh my god, you’re using the shirts?”

“I mean,” Olli says, “they’re kind of already a sex thing.”

Justin stares at him. “So you’re just gonna, what, keep them for, uh—“

“Special occasions?” Olli interrupts him. Justin groans.

“Sure, whatever.” He doesn’t comment further as Olli cleans them both off. He tosses the shirt in the general direction of his hamper and tucks himself into Justin’s side.

“Oh, now I’m your pillow?” Justin teases, even as he snakes his arm around Olli’s hip to pull him closer.

“Yep.” Olli just burrows his face further into Justin’s neck, nose brushing under his jaw. They stay like that for a few minutes, then Olli gets up again. Justin whines when Olli pulls away, and Olli laughs at him. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth and put my sweatpants back on.”

Justin sits up, stretching his arms as he does so. “Alright, diva.” He scoots to the end of the bed and leans over the edge to pick up his boxers. He pulls them on, not wanting to sleep completely naked. He stays sat at the edge of the bed, though, because he doesn’t know if Olli wants him to leave or not.

That question gets answered pretty quickly when Olli comes back and lies down, giving Justin a “get-over-here-right-now” kind of look. Justin’s more than happy to comply, pulling Olli flush against his side again once he gets up to the headboard.

They both stay quiet for a moment before Justin clears his throat. “So is this, uh,” he pauses, “is this a sex thing, or, like, a dating thing, or…?”

Olli raises his head to look at Justin, looking really shy for someone who had his mouth around Justin’s dick about ten minutes ago. “I was thinking both?”

Justin smiles, tugging him even closer. “Good.”

He can feel Olli grinning into his shoulder. “I have priorities, though. Sex first, romance second.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Justin says fondly.

Olli giggles. “That’s the plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written anything porn-y. It's an awkward thing to write.  
> Unbeta'd, because I like to live dangerously.


End file.
